


Morbid Fantasies

by popering



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Gen, Nightmares, Post-Fullmetal Alchemist: Conqueror of Shamballa, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, ed finally lets himself grieve, pre-CoS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 04:14:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13182144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popering/pseuds/popering
Summary: Alfons recounts all the peculiarities of Edward Elric, from the day they first met to the night Ed woke up screaming that he'd murdered his mother.





	Morbid Fantasies

**Author's Note:**

> edited this a little bit from the first time I posted it... hope you like it and please let me know what you think...

Alfons knew genius and eccentricity went hand in hand; he had met quite unusual people in his relatively short career as a rocket scientist. He'd traveled all over the continent meeting intelligent yet unorthodox inventors, professors, and engineers — but by and far, none were as brilliant, or as strange, as Edward Elric. 

The first time Alfons had met his roommate was almost two years ago at Dr. Oberth's house in Transylvania. Why all of them had traveled way out there to meet Ed was still a mystery to Alfons, seeing as how they all had been living in Munich at the time. He just supposed Hermann Oberth was another one of the many unconventional men he'd met through the years. Alfons clearly recalled his first encounter with Ed and remembered thinking how peculiar he was right off the bat. Back then, he'd had no clue how deep it truly went.

The younger boy and his team had been lead into Oberth's office where Edward was already waiting. He had to admit, he'd been pretty excited to meet Edward, especially since he was around Alfons' age. Alfons, despite what all his authority over the project would lead you to believe, was by far the youngest person on the team. Sometimes this hampered his ability to relate to everyone else. However, as soon as Alfons had spotted the newest member of his crew, he knew something about Ed was a little off-kilter, at least as far as social capabilities were concerned. 

Ed just couldn't seem to stop gaping at him. In fact, he jumped right out of his seat as soon as Alfons had entered the room. Ed continued to stare slack-jawed at him and Alfons benignly held his gaze, that is, until the silence seemed too awkward to carry on any further. When that point was reached, Alfons took a few steps toward him and extended his hand, offering a smile. Ed seemed to snap out of it then; he quickly shut his mouth and reached for the proffered hand, blushing slightly at his own behavior.

Alfons took a good look at the strange boy. Even his appearance was filled with abnormalities; never before had Alfons seen someone with golden eyes, and long hair on men wasn't exactly in style at the moment. Furthermore, it was the middle of July and Ed seemed to insist on wearing gloves, though, having shaken the man's hand, he thought he knew why. It was clear the stiff, oddly shaped appendage was artificial. That fact only added on to the peculiarity.

Edward introduced himself as such and Alfons returned the gesture. He swore he'd heard the golden-eyed boy mumble "of course" after hearing his name, but Alfons dismissed it and decided his ears were playing tricks on him. Alfons smiled again and got right down to business.

He could tell Ed was trying his hardest to pay attention to what he had to say, but Alfons could see the curious looks he was giving the rest of his team. Occasionally, he'd tiredly look up at Alfons with something the blue-eyed boy figured was...longing? Or...homesickness? That couldn't possibly be right. Whatever it was, Ed seemed to catch himself doing it every time and offered a small smile in apology, only the expression was so tired and world-weary it made Alfons' heart break instead. He couldn't understand for the life of him why Ed would look at him like that in the first place, but in the brief 5 minutes he'd known him, it wasn't hard to tell Ed had a long, likely painful past. Alfons was a little ashamed to admit just how much it piqued his curiosity.

He was eager to offer Ed a position on his team, especially after hearing the teen's enthusiastic theories about different fuel sources in relation to propulsion. Alfons even offered up the guest bedroom of his apartment if he needed a place to stay. Ed had told them he'd think about it, that he'd been somewhat distracted that day (as if it hadn't been obvious) and that he'd keep in touch and let them know what he'd decided. It had barely been a week before Alfons received a call from the short man saying he'd gladly join their group. Ed promptly moved in with his new teammate the next day. 

He had seemed rather taciturn and melancholy as he unpacked his few belongings into Alfons' guest bedroom. He worked slowly, silently and kept his back to Alfons the whole time. He seemed so far away. Alfons tried to ask him what was wrong, but Ed just shrugged him off. The taller boy left him alone for the time being but resolved to get an explanation out of him later. Edward was a puzzle Alfons was desperate to figure out. There was an entire untold (and likely exciting) past lurking beneath the surface that the scientist inside Alfons was eager to dissect and analyze, if only he could get Ed to open up.

When Ed finally snapped that his father had abandoned him again, Alfons couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

It wasn't until a few nights after Ed had moved in that Alfons began to notice the nightmares. 

The first time it had happened, Alfons had bolted right out of bed at the sound of Ed screaming. In his panic, Alfons made a mad dash to the kitchen to grab a frying pan, thinking someone had intruded, and sprinted back to Ed's room down the hall. 

"What's going on!?" He shouted as he burst through the door, positioning the frying pan in front of himself. He tried to sound threatening but he wasn't so sure that's how it came across. The boy quickly realized it didn't matter though, seeing that no one else was in the room. 

Ed was still wailing, however, and thrashing about somewhat violently. Alfons couldn't make out anything his friend was trying to say, but it didn't matter. He swiftly dropped the frying pan and kneeled on the hard wooden floor next to where Ed was sleeping. 

"Ed! Ed! Wake up! Edward!" He reached over the teen to shake his real shoulder. However, this was a mistake on Alfons' part. Ed darted upright out of bed with wide eyes and a panicked shout. The startled boy tried to take a swing at his roommate in his blind terror, but luckily missed him by quite a few inches. 

"Ed calm down! It's just me, it's Alfons," he explained, more quietly than before but still holding onto both of his shoulders. Ed had broken out in a cold sweat.

"Al?" He asked softly. He sounded hopeful but his eyes were still unfocused and kept darting around the room. When they finally landed on Alfons, Ed seemed to recognize where he was again; the German boy swore he saw a flash of disappointment cross Ed's face, but it was gone as rapidly as it had appeared. 

"Hey...are you alright?" Alfons asked cautiously. It was obvious Ed was still on edge.

It took a minute for him to respond. He wiped his only hand down his face and sighed. 

"Yeah...I'm okay...sorry I woke you," he spoke weakly. He moved to make his way out of bed and it was then that Alfons noticed his roommate was also missing a leg. Jesus Christ, Alfons thought, no wonder he wakes up screaming in the middle of the night. Alfons suddenly remembered that Ed had lived in London for awhile and thought back to the war. He vaguely recalled the firebombing that occurred there, he had only been a kid at the time. Alfons still grieved the loss of the war and the ruin of his country, but watching Ed now, he felt guilt pull at his heart. 

"Alfons, can you..." He pointed wearily to a lone leg on the floor near the end of the bed. Alfons nodded dumbly and bent to carefully pick it up — it was a lot heavier than he imagined. He handed it to Ed.

"Thanks," he sighed, "You can go back to bed now if you want," — Alfons knew a dismissal when he heard one. He wanted to ask Ed what his nightmare had been about, or if he wanted Alfons to make him some tea. He did neither of those things. The taller blond made his way back to his own room and listened to Ed bustling about first in the bathroom, and then in the kitchen. Alfons checked the clock; it was 4:38 in the morning, meaning he only had about 2 more hours of sleep left. Despite how confused he was, he decided he'd ponder it in the morning and tried not to let the light from the kitchen, or the enigma in it, bother him. 

He could tell by the dark circles under Edward's eyes and his slumped posture at the table that he hadn't gone back to bed afterwards.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Over the next few weeks things seemed to be going smoothly. Ed and Alfons would wake up early in the morning, often before sunrise, and immediately head over to their lab to continue researching with the rest of the group. There were a multitude of nights where they wound up working late, or occasionally even falling asleep there. Alfons didn't mind, he was just happy with all the progress they were making, especially since Ed had joined them.

Although Alfons was still completely in the dark about anything concerning the other blond boy, he couldn't deny Ed was probably the brightest person he'd ever met. He was optimistic and wholeheartedly devoted to their cause, and sometimes Alfons had to stop just to admire the man. It was funny, sometimes even scary, how hyper-focused he could become when trying to solve an equation or researching different theories. He recalled a time when Ed had his nose buried in a book and everyone on the team began pelting Ed with tiny, crumpled up scraps of paper in an effort to get his attention. He hadn't even flinched. If asked, Alfons was sure Ed would have no recollection of it.

While Edward seemed enthusiastic and cheerful — if fairly distant — by day, it was often a different story at night. During the day, the shorter boy worked hard — Alfons might've thought he was addicted to working if he hadn't known better. Maybe he was just that determined. At any rate, Edward was often too absorbed in his work to really talk to anyone, but that was alright as long as he was content that way. Actually, the more Alfons thought about it, the more he realized how quiet Ed was. Ed often asked a lot of questions about other people, especially their teammates and the landlady, Gracia, but he never talked about himself. This only served to frustrate Alfons further. 

At night, however, Ed swung between two extremes. On the rare occasions Ed went to bed before him, Alfons could often hear the young man murmuring in his sleep. The rocket scientist was not above eavesdropping; he often heard his name being mumbled into the pillow, along with Ed's parents, and someone named Winry. Other names were scattered in there, but none were repeated as often as those. While much information was divulged this way, the German boy couldn't make much sense of it. On the nights Alfons had to wake his friend from some unknown horror playing out in his mind, Ed either woke up frightened and babbling too incoherently for Alfons to really console him, or simply turned his back to him without a word until the prying blue eyes went away.

There was one night though that Alfons wouldn't — couldn't — forget. If he hadn't been worried about the boy before, he certainly was now.

They'd actually gone to bed early that night since they were ahead of schedule. The scientists figured a good night's sleep was in order, especially with the way they'd been working into the early morning hours recently. 

It was nearly 3am when Alfons all but fell out of bed at the sound of a shrill, blood-curdling scream emanating from Ed's room. It reverberated throughout the entire apartment, rattling Alfons to his core. He jumped just about 10 feet in the air. His pulse was racing and he could feel heart palpitations; even after recognizing it was one of Ed's nightmares, Alfons was afraid just listening to Ed. His roommate sounded like he was being heinously tortured. It made Alfons' blood run cold, and it gave him the sudden urge to run straight out of the building. He never knew someone could sound so terrified.

As he made a frenzied dash to Ed's room despite his own fears, the thought flitted through his mind that someone was bound to call the police with screaming this loud. Alfons didn't particularly care as he nearly broke the door trying to get to his friend.

The first thing the harried boy noticed once he burst into the room was that Edward had fallen to the ground in the midst of his thrashing and ostensibly not even that had woken him up. What's worse — he was completely tangled in the sheets, from head to toe, and was bound to suffocate if he kept struggling too much. Alfons dove to his knees beside Ed.

"Edward! Edward, wake up! It's just a dream! Please wake up!" Alfons' volume was slowly rising in order to be heard over the terror-stricken blond's shrieking. He was trying to loosen the sheets around his neck and keep Ed from hurting himself at the same time, which was proving rather difficult. Ed was fighting him every step of the way. Once he got Ed's head and neck sufficiently free, Alfons kept trying to snap him out of it. He grabbed onto his shoulders and started shaking.

"Edward! Please! It's just a nightmare! You're okay! Please just wake up!" The blue-eyed boy pleaded with him. Ed kept floundering, trying desperately to fight Alfons off with only two limbs, screaming all the while, and Alfons tried to act like the sight wasn't pitiful. Ed was trying with all his might, but he couldn't even scratch the younger engineer. Alfons grabbed the other boy's hand in his and attempted to keep Ed from bruising himself on the surrounding furniture.

It was then that Alfons noticed the tear tracks staining Edward's face. What had his roommate so shaken up!? He'd never seen Ed this distressed before — he was sweating profusely but his skin felt cold and clammy. He was pale and no amount of jostling seemed to be getting through. No one just screamed like this; if Alfons was being honest, it frightened him. What kind of hell had this poor kid seen? He just wanted his pained friend to wake up and stop screaming; the longer it went on the more fear tightened Alfons chest and the faster his heart started sinking.

"Ed, please! Please wake up! I don't know what to do!" Alfons yelled helplessly, ready to go into hysterics. Why wasn't he waking up? Nothing he was doing seemed to be working; what would he do if couldn't get Edward conscious? 

Luckily, it was at that moment Ed decided to slam his head back and brain himself on the wooden floor, crying out one last time in shocked pain and finally opening his eyes. Alfons wasted no time in gathering Ed into his arms, if only to restrain Ed from potentially taking another swing at him. He felt him stiffen considerably, relax, and then start shaking. He felt the shoulder of his shirt start to dampen as a new round of tears overflowed.

"Jesus, Ed, don't scare me like that," he whispered softly. At those words, Ed started to bawl openly against Alfons, but still said nothing. Alfons didn't know what to do. He'd never seen Ed cry before. He was gasping and shaking and crying out against his shoulder, harassed by the shadows in his mind. He hoped Edward would talk to him this time; whatever Ed wasn't telling anyone, it was obviously eating away at him. He held Ed just a little tighter as he started trembling even more and waited until the golden-eyed boy's sobbing dissipated some. He sat on the hard floor until his legs were stiff, waiting for his overwrought friend's breathing to even out.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry," Ed muttered pathetically into his shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut and gripping the back of Alfons' shirt a little harder. Alfons furrowed his brow.

"There's nothing to be sorry for. Why are you sorry?" the other blond haired boy asked confusedly. He was trying his best to comfort Ed, but he wasn't confident. Ed shook his head and took a ragged breath.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, a little more despondently than last time. He sounded close to the verge of tears again.

Alfons didn't reply, he simply rubbed his back in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. He sat on the ground with Edward for long while, but he didn't mind. His roommate seemed to be calming down finally. Anything to stop that heart-wrenching screaming. Eventually, Ed began to pull away from his grasp. Alfons started to speak, but his fellow scientist beat him to it.

"Alfons, did I ever..." He took a deep, shaky breath, "...Did I ever tell you about the time I killed my mother?" He rubbed his face and squeezed his eyes, letting out another ragged breath that sounded much like a sob.

The rocket scientist felt like he'd just slammed into a brick wall. He had no idea what he'd expected Ed to say, but it definitely wasn't that. He was completely taken aback, dare he say, horrified. He stared at Ed dumbly, with wide eyes and an open mouth, trying to surmise whether he'd just heard him correctly or if he was just imagining things. 

"I...W-what?" was his stuttered response. Ed gave a weak, humorless laugh. 

"It's funny, actually. I was trying to do the opposite...but..." He trailed off, choosing instead to stare at the ground. 

"Ed...are you feeling okay?" Alfons inquired, reaching cautiously to feel his friend's forehead. Ed dodged his attempt.

"Yeah...yeah, I'm fine..." Ed waved his hand in the air, still thinking, "I should just...go back to bed," He sighed.

"No," He reacted rather loudly, "I mean...Edward, please tell me what you mean. What are you talking about?" He begged. As alarmed as Alfons had been at Ed's declaration, he still wanted to know. At this point he felt like he needed to know; who had he been living with these past few months?

Alfons helped his rattled friend back into bed and sat down on the edge. Eventually, he left to go make tea in the kitchen, intending to bring it back to Ed's room and at last get some answers. Although this prospect excited him, everything Ed had just said deeply unsettled him; he was beginning to doubt just how much he wanted to know about Edward. 

He shuffled his way back to Ed's bedroom, careful not to spill the tea, and handed a cup to Ed. Alfons braced himself for whatever horrors he was likely to hear about. His apprehension must have shown on his face.

"Ready?" Ed whispered. Alfons nodded.

For the next hour or so, Ed regaled his brother's doppelgänger with stories of all the depraved things they'd seen and done, intending to spill everything. He recounted first how their lovely, kind mother had died, and then explained the alchemy they used, and how badly they had fucked up, trying to resurrect her. He explained the automail and his decision to join the military at only 12 years old. 

Ed found he couldn't stop rambling; his breathing was increasing rapidly as he spoke and he ended up on a tangent describing the monstrosity that was Shou Tucker, then his experience not long after with almost being murdered alongside his best childhood friend. He recalled the time his brother had been taken hostage and how he'd nearly been forced to kill dozens of people. He had been ready to throw away so many lives and what right did he have? He said he'd do anything, but he didn't want to be a murderer! He didn't, he really didn't! But he almost had so what did that mean!? Ed started hyperventilating at that point; Alfons had to tell him to take deep breaths and remind him that none of that was happening now — he was safe here, he wasn't a murderer, and he just needed to calm down before he passed out. 

Ed took a moment to silently regroup, then carried on. In a slightly more nervous tone, he related the most recent atrocities: how his brother had been kidnapped and then Ed himself impaled, a gaping hole through his torso. All that blood and all that empty space. Ed became eerily quiet again; Alfons watched as his roommate slowly brought a hand to his chest, tapped it lightly — continually — and lowered his gaze down to the bed with unfocused, watery eyes.

"Edward..." Alfons shook his shoulder gently, not wanting to startle him, which fortunately did the trick. Ed continued to explain how his brother had sacrificed himself in order to bring Ed back, and how Ed had done the same thing in turn, but had ended up here instead. He confided to Alfons his insecurities; he didn't know if his brother was dead, or if he was dead, or if he was dreaming or in hell or if he was hallucinating the entire goddamn thing. He asked Alfons if he was real, to which wide blue eyes didn't know how to respond. Ed confessed that maybe all of his confusion and doubts were just part of what he deserved.

Everywhere he looked he was haunted by the faces of friends and family, especially, though he was loathe to admit it, Alfons. Not even the face of the once-dead officer Hughes alarmed him as much as Alfons had. He was isolated here, completely alone. No one could've possibly understood except his father, who had ditched him again just like he had all those years ago. He just wanted to go back home, go back in time and redo everything he'd ever done so he could lead the average, white-picket-fence, picture-perfect life that so many people bafflingly longed to escape.

He started to break down again, crying all the tears he’d never let himself shed in the past. In this moment, Ed couldn’t have cared less about appearances, he cried for all the tragedies he suffered in his short life and all the ones he inflicted. He mourned the loss of his entire family and hated himself for the role he played in it. For his whole life, Ed had shoved all his grief and guilt to the back of his mind, focusing solely on his responsibility to his brother and being strong for the both of them. He was desperate for this. He had been clinging onto Alfons the entire time as if he had all of the answers to end Edward's torment. It was as if Ed was quietly begging Alfons to forgive him for all of these things when, in reality, Alfons could barely fathom them. 

He held Ed awkwardly in his arms for the second time that night while he sobbed. Alfons' heart was slowly breaking in his chest, hearing his friend wailing so hopelessly. Ed was crying so hard he was having trouble breathing, which panicked Alfons tremendously. He was quivering helplessly and fighting for air. It didn't help that Alfons had already been panicking in the first place; not only had he never seen Ed cry this hard, he didn't think he'd ever seen anyone cry this hard.

He just wanted to help ease this poor kid's tortured soul. With one hand cradling the back of his head, Alfons started to rub his other hand in small circles on Ed’s back until he quieted down. It was almost funny; Alfons felt like the boy's mother, which he supposed was alright since Ed was in such desperate need of one. They sat like that for God knows how long. With sore, stiff limbs and all, swaying gently, Edward slowly stopped sobbing — only quiet tears and small, stray hiccups were left, and eventually even those ceased after Ed had completely run himself ragged, becoming a limp, exhausted heap in Alfons' arms. 

Delicately, Alfons laid the boy back down in bed, taking the utmost care not to wake him. Alfons figured his friend was too exhausted to wake up, even if the world started ending, but he didn't want to chance it. Alfons laid down next to him. Even though he could see the faintest traces of the sun peaking out from the curtains, the younger boy had no intention of falling asleep just yet. Edward seemed so small, so breakable like this. His eyes were red and puffy, and his entire face was still so wet with tears. He was curled unconsciously into Alfons' chest and the blue-eyed boy absentmindedly stroked his hair.

Alfons had no idea what to think. He wanted so badly to believe Edward, just for the sheer fact his friend was so anguished; it felt disrespectful to just brush it off. No matter how hard the German boy tried though, his rational mind told him it just couldn't possibly be true. Other worlds, at least the one Ed was describing, just weren't real. Alfons' heart ached for his so obviously disturbed friend. The worst part of it all was that Ed had so fully immersed himself in all these delusions, and it was slowly destroying him.

However, not for one second would Alfons doubt that his friend's past had been horrifying — that much was obvious from his missing limbs and orphan status. Alfons didn't know what the truth was, but whatever unspeakable terrors Ed was replacing with these sham memories had clearly left the boy deranged and in denial. 

It was no wonder Ed was always so far removed from everyone else. Despite his curiosity about most of the people he met, he had always been emotionally distant towards them; it was easy to see why now, if Ed was this out of touch with reality. He could tell his friend felt alienated; all his behaviors were starting to make sense now. Alfons only wished the explanation had been a sane one. His life seemed to revolve around these morbid fantasies. Ed was barely seventeen and already the world had chewed him up and spit him back out. He didn't deserve any more misery.

"Jesus Christ, Ed," Alfons whispered into his sleeping friend's hair. All of this was suddenly starting to overwhelm the normally rational scientist — it made him want to cry. He firmly resolved not to though; Edward had shed enough tears for both of them to last a lifetime, any more and Alfons was afraid the boy might drown.

The younger man sat there in utter silence, trying to come up with ways to ease Ed's suffering. Alfons certainly wasn't going to send him anywhere — he'd heard a number of horror stories about asylums. It wasn't like Edward was a danger to himself or anyone else, at least, not when he was awake. He just couldn't stand to see him so distraught, so inconsolable. Alfons wasn't cut out to handle these kinds of things.

It wasn't long before Alfons couldn't stop himself from yawning. The sun was completely over the horizon now but the bed was feeling softer and warmer by the minute. Each time he closed his eyes it was becoming harder and harder to open them again. Eventually, he stopped fighting it and let out one last sigh, all the energy leaving his body with it. He was immediately taken by sleep, a troubled boy still gripping unconsciously onto him.

They slept deeply, long into the afternoon, taking the day off. Not once were they disturbed by the bustling of people outside, or noisy cars passing down the street. They were wholly dead to the world — it was probably better that way, at least for an afternoon. For all they cared, the entire universe was just a bedroom in a cheap apartment on the west side of Munich, and they were content not to leave. 

Ed was the first to wake up. He noiselessly peeled himself off Alfons and stumbled his way into the kitchen. Noting that it was nearly time for dinner, he started boiling water in preparation for stew. It was quiet in the small apartment, the light outside already beginning to wane again. Alfons didn't waltz in until Ed was setting the two bowls on the table. Not a word passed between them. They ate in a solemn, but not uncomfortable silence — some sort of extra-sensory understanding passing between them. 

They never spoke of it again. Ed went back to being his reserved, withdrawn self while Alfons regarded him with a new, somber understanding. The strange golden-eyed boy still woke up in fits in the dead of night, yelling about other worlds in a startled frenzy while Alfons tried not to seem pitying. Every once in awhile, Ed would make a reference to one of his delusions, silently begging his brother's look-alike to believe him. Alfons would tense with unease, not sure how to deal with a sick friend. 

Somehow, they managed.


End file.
